


For Old Time's Sake

by commanderlurker (honeybee592)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Multiple Orgasms, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Vaginal Fingering, War Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-15 23:25:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8077420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybee592/pseuds/commanderlurker
Summary: Emma Trevelyan has wound up the Inquisition and is ready to become a Charger, but she has unfinished business with both Iron Bull and the war table.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sumi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sumi/gifts).



> For Sumi. I think I managed to work in aspects from three of your four prompts :)
> 
> Huge thanks to my beta reader, Delazeur :D

Emma walked a slow circle around her chambers, relief mixing with regret. Golden dust motes caught in the light, dancing in the afternoon glow. Her boots echoed on the wood floor, clear of rugs and bear skins. All her personal possessions had been whittled down and packed into a single bag and saddled to her horse. No need for ball dresses or dashing red uniforms where she was going. No need for a heavy ornate wooden bed, either. She’d sleep under the stars, or in a tent. Most likely on top of Iron Bull. Finally, almost a year after declaring the Inquisition finished, Emma was to become a Charger and roam the countryside.

Winding up the Inquisition had been an easy decision. The practicalities of disbanding such an institution proved to be difficult. Emma had insisted that everyone (reduced to ‘as many as practicably possible’ on Josephine’s frazzled insistence) be found a place or job to go to. Cullen had to organise the soldiers, send them to the ranks of Empress Celene or Queen Anora. Some too old to fight had no homes to return to. Some would not be welcome, considered traitors. Some would have no towns or villages left, the victims of Orlais’ civil war and Corypheus’ army. Servants who hadn’t followed Solas to wherever his secret lair was found new jobs. There were more than enough estates for them to go to. For some it was a new adventure, setting up in a new town. Many though had had enough of adventure. Emma’s was just beginning. She suspected Leliana would call on her when the time came, but for now, her life was her own.

Closing the door behind her, she skipped down the stairs for the last time, her heart full and content. She’d done all she could do, to the best of her ability. The main hall stood empty; hers the only feet clicking on the stones. Still, she kept an eye out as she slipped through the door to Josephine's office and dashed the short distance to the war room. She may be done with carrying the weight of the Inquisition on her shoulders, but she still had one piece of unfinished business to attend to.

Bull leaned against the table, all casual, arms folded, accenting his muscle. And he wore his vitaar. Maker, the sight of him took her breath away. Krem must have painted him, no doubt with some ribbing about the reasons why. _No fights on today Chief, so it must be sex, right?_

He turned as the door creaked, big grin on his face. “Hey Kadan. War room, huh?”

“For old time’s sake,” Emma replied. She sauntered over and let Bull wrap her in his arms. He chuckled, the rumble going right through his body and into Emma’s. He stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head.

“So, what did you have in mind,” he asked. Always with the options, the acknowledgement of her choice.

Emma leaned back and peered up at Bull, nostalgia mixing with the lust low in her belly. He’d aged in these years he’d been with the Inquisition, but only someone as close to him as Emma would really notice the details. Little things, like the lines around his eyes and mouth--laughter lines, Emma called them. His belly a little wider, horns a little more brittle. But none of that detracted from him. He was still The Iron Bull, leader of the Bull’s Chargers. He was still the biggest, scariest warrior on the battlefield, and the first to celebrate victories and open the cask. He was still Emma’s Bull, too. Committed, dedicated, loving. He was whatever she needed him to be, and right now, she needed his passion.

“Take me, Bull. Let’s leave the Inquisition behind with a bang.”  
  
Bull grinned, showing his teeth, squeezing her in his arms. He growled as he picked her up and plonked her on the table. She gasped--his force always a surprise. Her gasp turned into a moan as he kissed her, lips against hers, hard, one hand in her hair holding her steady against him, the other on her hip, thumb digging into her groin. He kissed his way to her neck, teeth pulling her collar out the way. Blasted clothes! She started unbuttoning her shirt but was still clumsy at doing so one handed, when Bull put his hand over hers.

“Nuh uh. Hand on the table.”

She went all gooey at his instruction and placed her palm on the table behind her far enough that she arched her back, presenting her chest to Bull. The smile that accompanied his little headshake told her that he was onto her tricks. He dipped to her neck, nuzzling and kissing, beard scratching, shivers shuddering down her spine. He fingered her buttons loose, taking his sweet time, Emma trying to stay still lest Bull slow down even more.

With the last button free, he pushed her shirt back over her shoulders and stood back to admire her in her pink lacy brassiere. Not at all suitable for riding, but right now, horse riding was the last thing on her mind.

Finally, when he’d taken his fill, he flicked the clasp between her breasts and the bra snapped apart. She gasped and arched more, willing Bull to kiss her. He did, lips closing around one nipple. He sucked--hard--sending a delicious sting straight to her clit. He popped off and sucked the other. The cool air lapped at her wet nipple only to be replaced with his hot tongue again. Her arm trembled but she stayed up, fingers digging into the table as Bull moved down her body. She shivered as his kisses left cool pools in their wake.

He palmed her between her legs, over her trousers and the rough caught on her clit. He could take her apart just like this, half naked on the war table. But Bull wanted her bare. He unbuttoned her trousers and helped lift her up so he could pull them down to her knees. The table was cool on her bare arse and she thought dimly of the villages on the map she must be squashing.

“Lay back. All the way,” Bull said.

Emma lay down completely and looked up at the ceiling. As Bull relieved her of boots, trousers and underwear, she saw just how empty the room was. Like her chambers (and Emma herself), the war room had been stripped. The advisors’ stands gone, packed up and shipped to who knew where. The war table itself clear of all but the map. No boxes or books or weird skulls or magical crystals. No map markers. No life. Nothing to indicate the enormity of the decisions made around this table. The lives sacrificed and saved, deals done, assassinations ordered. Emma breathed deep, breath catching in her throat.

Bull nestled between her legs, throwing one leg, then the other, over his horns. He parted her folds, his hot breath bathing her cunt before he dived in. Emma cried and arched into him, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the table.

Between the prickles of his beard and his velvet tongue, she fell apart, orgasm washing over her in gentle waves; comforting, almost, like being wrapped in a favourite blanket. Bull was her blanket, her safety and comfort. Craving his scent, she eased up and leaned forward. He let her legs down gently and pulled her to him, kissing her with wet, musky lips. Tasting herself on him made her want him even more--more of this man who had given so much of himself to her. He’d given her his life, in fact, that afternoon when she chose him and his men over a qunari alliance. Maker, she needed him as much as he needed her. She leaned in with force, kissing hard, arm wrapped tightly around his neck. He responded, nipping her lip and jaw, sucking her neck.

“You want more?” he asked, eyes glazed and dark.

“You know I do.”

He stepped back to drop his trousers and with his heat gone she shivered. And she noticed the table. How wet it was. Between her legs, a large pool of her juice filled Lake Calenhad, spilling the banks and flooding the neighbouring fields. She laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Bull asked. He laughed too once she’d explained it to him. Then he got that glint in his eye that meant he’d had a fiendish idea. “You want to leave your mark all over this map?

Maker, did she.

Bull obliged. He flipped her around, pressed her against the table. Her breasts smothered the Frostbacks, right nipple rubbing against the Frostback Basin where the secrets of the first Inquisitor had been revealed. With one broad, warm hand on her back to steady her, Bull kneed her legs apart and thrust one, then two fingers into her. He stretched her, filled her, made her cunt ache. She lay her cheek against the table, over the Storm Coast. Their meeting place all those years ago. Wet, wild weather, so much more so on the Ferelden coast than the north. Ostwick’s coast had beaches, long and sandy with soft black sand that felt like velvet between your toes. Maybe she’d take him there and they’d go skinny dipping in the moonlight.

Bull leaned over her, his heat almost too much now that he’d worked her back to her peak again. He stroked her back, over her shoulder and down her arm. He took her hand in his, locking their fingers together. She gripped him, hard, knuckles going white. He murmured in her ear, low throaty exultations of her beauty, her intelligence and strength and he fingered her so wonderfully. She didn’t feel particularly beautiful right now, flushed and spread as she was. Nor could she think of anything intelligent. If someone asked her whether or not Empress Celene’s new taxation policy was progressive, she’d have gulped like a fish. As for her strength, well, good thing she had this table between her and the floor.

Bull shifted her again as he worked her open, made her cunt pliant and ready for his cock. In doing so that wellspring burst and she drenched the Western Approach.

He eased her feet to the ground and she made herself comfortable on the table, sprawled over some part of Thedas she’d no doubt trampled all over in search of rifts and rocks and Maker knows what else. Only when Bull curled his hand over her shoulder and pulled her up did she realise where she’d flopped. She let out a _guh_ , from the location or Bull’s cock against her arse, not even she knew.

“Hey, hey remember how I strong I said you were? Show me. Stay like this.” Bull made Emma straighten her arm, place her palm over the Arbor Wilds. With one hand on her hip, Bull guided himself in, slowly, all the way, pushing Emma forward. He eased back, sliding easily, in and out, gaining a rhythm that had Emma’s toes curling and cunt clenching.  As he thrust faster and faster, her hand inched forward, threatening her balance. Her arm shook and burned but she dug her fingers in and gritted her teeth, determined not to fall. She'd show Bull how strong she was. She’d show herself. If only she had two hands this would be so much easier. But she no longer did. _He_ took it from her, to keep her alive. For what, she didn’t know and at the time, didn’t care. He may not have taken it it here, where her palm lay in the Wilds, but this place signaled the beginning of the end. He wouldn’t drink from the Well and she wouldn’t let Morrigan, so Emma herself did, unleashing...what? She was still unsure how far reaching those consequences would be.

“Kadan.” Bull’s growl snapped Emma’s attention back to the present. “The way you make me feel…” Both his hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into her flesh. Maker, the way _she_ made _him_ feel? Did he have no idea what he was doing to her now? Yes, of course he did and she loved it.

But he wasn’t done, wasn’t ready to be done. He slipped out and moved her, fingering her and making her come again and again, all over Southern Thedas. They left their mark on every spot that a map marker had been. Even the tiny little mineral mines. Especially those waste of time tiny little mineral mines. Well, take that, Cullen, Emma thought, as her a butt squashed one.

After one long, shuddering orgasm, Emma slumped against Bull. Surely he was spent now too, but no. His cock stood proud, wet from her cunt and leaking at the tip. He grinned, tilting his head at the table. One stop left: Val Royeaux. And Bull’s grand plans for Val Royeaux involved his arse, if the way he climbed right onto the table was anything to go by. He judged the angle and sat right down, squashing the capital well and truly.

Maker, how did the table not break? Then he hauled her on top of him and she sunk onto his cock.

“Go crazy,” Bull said, grinning.

So she did. With the very last of her energy, she pounded Bull as hard as she could, driving him further and further into Val Royeaux. That stupid city with its stupid empress and stupid masks and stupid--

“Hey, hey, easy.” Bull held her up and through tears she didn’t know she’d shed she saw Bull grimacing.

Emma choked out a laugh. She leant forward, spreading her hand over Bull’s broad chest. He rumbled and he breathed, twitching his cock inside her. Emma ground down, heart thumping at the way Bull arched, at his reaction to her. Together they fucked, tempo increasing slowly, wonderfully. Every inch of him filled her but she still wanted more.

“Let’s come together,” she said.

“Whatever you say, Boss.” Bull slipped his hand between her legs and thumbed her clit. Soon, soon they reached their peaks and came, moaning each other’s names, eyes locked together with Val Royeaux most definitely flattened to the ground.

Now Emma could leave the Inquisition behind. Not for good--she doubted she’d ever be truly done--but for now, this adventure was over and a new one could begin.

 


End file.
